The other day I walked over to the baseball stadium to catch a game. Two little Tigers followed me.
These were very fierce little tigers:
We had good seats. The drunks behind us could yell at the left fielder and the guy in center field.
We bought overpriced hats. A kid needs a ballcap at the ballpark, I figured. Back home, the tigers turned back into kids who wanted to play ball for the rest of the afternoon.
This is apparently how little tigers celebrate a home run:
Next time I am totally not going to intentionally miss that tag at the plate.
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